


Into The Light

by Oneday_Always



Category: Under The Dome (TV), Under the Dome - All Media Types
Genre: About as near-death as you can get, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:03:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oneday_Always/pseuds/Oneday_Always
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Incredibly belated post-ep to the S1 finale.</p><p>(Moving my old works over from ffnet.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into The Light

The pink stars rose in lines.

Like the world's strangest fireworks display, the stars shot silently upward toward the pinnacle of the dome— and then exploded, hundreds of individual sparks colliding and merging together, erupting into a gigantic white starburst in the middle of the sky, filling the dome with blazing light.

Standing on the now-illuminated platform with a noose around his craning neck, Barbie stared at the near-blinding light, trying and failing to find any kind of understanding or rational explanation for exactly what the hell was happening. Somewhere behind him, he could hear Jim's shouts becoming more insistent, almost agitated, his oddly distant-sounding voice demanding for Junior to do it already, to pull the lever and end it— end  _him_ — and he braced himself for it, thinking that if he had to die now, at least he was going to go out with a big goddamn bang.

And hell, if he had any luck at all, one that would take Big Jim and some of his minions out with him.

He was just about to glance over at Junior— and the surprisingly still-untouched lever — when a sudden flare from above had him squinting, his eyes watering against the glare. Barely a split second later, an explosion of noise roared through the relative silence of the town, near-deafening him as the platform shook beneath his feet, a sudden force sending him painfully to his knees, his head feeling like it was going to burst apart with the pressure—

And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.

Forcing his eyes open, Barbie blinked against the spots dancing in his vision, the sound of screams and shouts filtering through the ringing in his ears. Lifting his head, he looked up at the clear blue sky— and then at the singed, dangling end of the rope that hung from the gallows, now completely severed from the noose that still encircled his neck.

For a moment, he simply stared, too stunned to react— until a nearby shout broke through his daze, the faceless voice wrought with uncontrolled panic.

"Dad!  _Dad!"_

Following the voice— Junior's, he realized— Barbie turned his head, his eyes finding Junior on his knees next to the spot where Big Jim had stood, just moments ago.

The exact spot where Big Jim now lay, his body limp and motionless, his clothes smoking faintly.

Watching Junior grasp at him, hearing his choked pleas, Barbie felt the truth sink in, a silent moment of shocked understanding.

Big Jim had made himself a threat, and so the dome had made itself heard.

Looking away from the sobbing teenager, Barbie drew a deep breath— half-surprised he could still breathe at all— then slowly forced himself to his feet, his shoulders straightening as he faced the remainder of the stunned crowd.

"Is that a sign enough for you?" he called loudly, his voice roughened but strong, carrying through the sudden silence to all who were gathered below. If there was ever going to be a time when they might actually listen to him, this would probably be it, so he was sure as hell going to make them hear what he had to say.

"From the day the dome came down, Big Jim has been lying to you," he announced, hoping he wasn't about to end up with a grief-enraged Junior putting a bullet in his back. Stepping closer to the edge of the platform— feeling slightly encouraged by the crowd's continuing silence— he pressed on.

"Every moment that we've been trapped in here, he has done nothing but manipulate his way into gaining control over this town, murdering anyone who posed a threat to his power. Yesterday morning, I confronted him, told him I would do whatever I could to stop him. I became a threat to him, so he used his influence to turn me into a scapegoat, to set me up to take the blame for his crimes. He framed me, threatened the people I care about to keep me quiet, and did just about everything in his power to have me killed."

Fixing his gaze steadily on the crowd, Barbie stood a little taller, raising his voice just slightly as he continued, hoping like hell that the gamble he was about to take would pay off.

"But I'm still here. God, the dome, whatever you believe— it saved me and it took him. If anyone doubts that I'm innocent, you can take your chances and try to kill me like Jim did, but odds are you'll end up the same way. I may be a stranger in this town, but I haven't ever hurt any of you, and I don't want to. I just want to find Julia and go on living my life."

Having said what he wanted to say, Barbie released a slightly unsteady breath, but stood firm, determined not to let them see him waver. Staring defiantly down on the silent crowd, he tried to subtly gauge their reactions, to predict whether any would dare to challenge his bluff. If they believed him, or even just feared the alternative enough to leave him alone, then it was possible that he might actually have a shot at surviving this whole thing.

A shot at having an actual future again.

Just as he began to feel the first tiny flicker of hope light in his chest, there was movement in the crowd below, a tall figure shoving his way to the front of the gathered residents.

"Never hurt any of us?!" Phil shouted, his voice tight with fury. "You killed Dodee!"

Biting back the reflexive retort about just how fucking physically _impossible_  it was for him to have killed Dodee from the other side of the goddamn town, Barbie drew a steadying breath, and was just about to speak when another voice suddenly rose above the crowd.

"No, he didn't!"

The breathless shout came from the back of the group, sharp and familiar, and suddenly the three teenagers were there, weaving through the staring bystanders as they raced to the platform.

Craning his neck, he stared over the crowd, his eyes searching the direction that the three had come from, seeking the familiar flash of red curls amongst the sea of strangers.

Moments later, they stood before him, the three of them stepping past Junior's silently-rocking figure to form a protective wall between him and the crowd below. Sharing a brief nod with a relieved and determined-looking Joe— who would have had his emotions written all over his face if something had happened to Julia— Barbie released a slow breath, something loosening just slightly in his chest. Still, he wouldn't be able to relax until he'd seen for himself that she was okay; he couldn't shake the feeling that she'd had something to do with the dome's unexpected light show, and he knew that any kind of interaction with the dome came with risks.

God, just let her be okay.

A split second later, Angie caught his gaze, and he forced himself to focus, giving her a tiny nod as he allowed her take charge. As she turned away, Norrie threw him a grim smile, and he briefly returned it, surprised at the tiny ripple of relief that was spreading through him. It had been a long time since he'd had a team to watch his back, and while these three wouldn't necessarily have been his optimal pick, he was glad to have them.

"Barbie didn't kill Dodee," Angie repeated loudly, her petite body stiff with determination as she faced the crowd. "I was with him when the radio station burned— we were on the way from my house to the clinic, trying to sneak in to rescue Julia before Big Jim could have her killed for knowing the truth. There's no possible way Barbie could have been across town at the radio station at the same time. He had  _nothing_  to do with what happened to the station, or to Dodee."

Phil's voice rose again immediately, angry and accusing. "You've been  _helping_  him! Why should we believe you?!"

Barbie saw Angie open her mouth once more to argue, but another voice answered for her.

"Because she's right," Linda said somberly, her words sounding tired, heavy, yet still firm enough to carry to nearly all present. "The math never did add up about Dodee, and you know it, Phil. You just couldn't see because you wanted someone to blame. We all did."

"Blame Big Jim," Angie said loudly, her tone scathing. "He used us, lied to us, hurt us. Barbie may be a stranger but he's only ever helped protect us. He saved my life when the Dundees killed Rose. He saved Joe when the plane crashed into the dome, and he saved many of you by bringing in the antibiotics when you were sick, or by helping to catch Randolph and the Dundees when they threatened all of us. He's a hero, not a goddamn murderer!"

As the echo of her words hung in the air, there was a moment of stunned silence from the crowd, and even Barbie found himself staring at Angie in surprise. He couldn't completely agree with that last part, but hell, he wasn't about to contradict her; after all, she had just made a far better argument for his life than he ever could have done for himself, and he'd take what he could get.

"I believe them," called a steady voice from below, one that he thought he recognized— and, glancing over, he saw Carolyn swiftly hurrying towards the crowd, another familiar figure right behind her.

"I believe them too," Harriet added hurriedly, her voice slightly breathless as she kept up with the older woman. He could see little Alice bundled in her arms, somehow asleep despite the commotion. "Barbie delivered my baby— she would have died without him. I  _know_  that he's innocent."

Looking down, Barbie met Harriet's gaze, giving her a small, grateful nod. Her answering smile was anxious but resolute, her arms cradling Alice closer to her chest. Around her, signs of uncertainty began appearing on many of the gathered faces, the sheep wavering without Big Jim to shepherd them.

" _Exactly._  Barbie's innocent, so he's free to go," Angie spoke up firmly, adding, "Right, Linda?"

Almost immediately, all eyes turned to the sheriff, and Barbie watched her hesitate, seeing the concern and indecision that crossed her features. For a moment she looked down, seeming torn, but when she looked back up again just seconds later, her face was set, her expression grim. She stood a little straighter, her eyes roving around the gathered crowd— yet never turning in his direction— and Barbie felt his jaw tighten, a heavy feeling building in his gut. After all, he knew better than practically anyone how hard she had been fighting to keep the town safe, how heavily the responsibility weighed on her shoulders. If she decided he was too much of a risk... well, it wasn't hard to see that in the question of his life versus the welfare of an entire town, he didn't come out on top.

Which meant that after everything— after getting so close to having his life back, to having the chance to see Julia again— after all that, he was just going to lose it all again anyway.

Letting out a slow breath, Barbie lowered his head, already preparing to accept the inevitable when Linda finally spoke, her voice heavy, grim, but ringing with authority.

"Dale Barbara is cleared of all charges," she began, and Barbie lifted his head sharply, his eyes fixing instantly on hers, a moment of silent communication passing between them before she turned away, speaking over the murmurs that buzzed through the crowd.

"Anyone who has an issue with this decision can come and see me tomorrow during business hours. But right now, I think it's time we all just went home."

Whatever response she'd gained to that suggestion was lost on him; he'd stopped listening.

In fact, he'd stopped paying attention to anything but the single word that seemed to echo in his head, stunned relief spreading through him like a drug.

_Cleared._

He was cleared. Free to go.

And right now, he had somewhere to be.

Suddenly recovering himself, Barbie blinked, his mind already working on the task of getting himself free from the cuffs, his eyes automatically casting around— only to see Norrie moving toward him, her eyes meeting his with a small smile before she reached up and pulled the noose over his head, tossing it off the side of the platform.

"Now, that's better," she commented dryly, and he drew a deep breath, clearing his suddenly unrestricted throat.

"Thanks," he said gruffly, meeting her eyes, then Joe's. "Think we can find some keys for these cuffs?"

"On it," Angie replied from somewhere behind him, and he turned to see her crouching silently beside Junior, her hand resting briefly on his hunched shoulders. The young deputy showed no sign of even being aware of her, already semi-catatonic with shock. Barbie had seen it plenty of times before, among both soldiers and civilians, on and off the battlefield. Physically, the kid would recover soon enough. Mentally... well, that was a different story.

A moment later, Angie had unhooked the keys from Junior's belt, her eyes meeting Barbie's as she stood. Giving her a small nod of thanks, he turned his back to her, feeling the press of the metal against his skin as she unlocked first one cuff and then the other.

And then finally his arms were free, tiny bolts of pain immediately shooting up into his shoulders as he gingerly moved and stretched, letting his muscles readjust. Within minutes, he knew, the pins and needles would fade and he'd be back to full range of movement once again; after all, this wasn't exactly the first time he'd been bound with his hands behind his back and a death sentence on his head.

He was just kind of hoping it would be the last.

Keeping an eye on the slowly dispersing crowd, Barbie turned to the teenagers, his voice low and urgent. He'd managed to ensure his own safety; now, there was a higher priority on his list.

"Where's Julia?"

"We don't know," Joe answered quickly, his forehead creasing in its usual concerned frown. "She left the diner with the egg about half an hour ago, but she didn't tell us anything about what she was going to do. But whatever all that was, with the stars and everything— she definitely made it happen."

Clearly, Joe had intended his news to be reassuring; instead, he simply confirmed what Barbie had already feared.

Somehow, because of Julia, the dome had protected him— had  _saved_  him— and in his experience, that kind of thing never came for free.

At that thought, Barbie felt his jaw tighten, his fists clenching subconsciously as he fought to control the fresh surge of anxiety that was taking hold in his chest.

If anything had happened to Julia...

Drawing in an unsteady breath, he squared his shoulders, calling on his training as he forced himself to focus.

"Alright, I'm gonna head home, see if she's there," he told the teenagers, then fixed his gaze on Joe's, adding firmly, "I want you three to get out of here. Go with Carolyn, get home and lay low for a while, just in case."

"You shouldn't go off alone," Norrie protested, earning immediate nods of agreement from both McAlisters. "There could still be some people who want to hurt you—"

"I'll be fine," he cut in sharply, his impatience momentarily breaking through. But then, looking between the three of them— seeing the genuine concern reflected on their faces— he let out a breath, his tone softening.

"Look, you guys saved my ass, and I appreciate it. But between Linda's orders, my training, and the dome's little light show, I doubt anyone's gonna want to come anywhere near me for a while. It's not  _my_  safety that I'm concerned about right now, so if you really wanna help me, you'll go home, get some rest, and just give this whole thing some time to blow over, alright?"

The teenagers hesitated, trading brief looks of concern before Angie spoke up, her eyes stark and serious as they met his. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I will," he promised, then added dryly, "Now go home."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and swiftly crossed the platform, giving Junior and Big Jim a wide berth before descending the stairs two at a time. Back on solid ground, he paused for a moment to do a quick sweep of the remaining residents— who, true to what he'd said, all seemed eager to avoid him— and then was instantly on the move again, already several feet from the platform when he heard Linda call his name.

Turning warily, he watched her approach, his muscles immediately tensing as he saw her hand lower to her gun, her eyes fixing on his.

"Take this with you," she said quietly, surprising him as she drew the gun and held it out to him, grip first. When he didn't immediately take it, she sighed, then stepped closer, her voice impatient. "Take it, Barbie. Just in case. You can pick yours up when you and Julia come into the station tomorrow to explain just what the  _hell_  has been going on in this town."

Looking down at her, and realizing the gesture for what it was— as near to an apology as she could manage— Barbie gave her a slow nod, carefully accepting the gun-slash-olive-branch before tucking it away into his waistband.

"Thanks, Linda," he murmured, and this time it was her turn to nod, just a tiny jerk of the head in acknowledgment before she was suddenly gone again, striding across the grass to clear the last of the crowd. Drawing in a quick breath, Barbie set off once more in the opposite direction, keeping his pace steady as he headed towards Julia's house— towards  _home_ — waiting only until he had turned the corner and was out of sight before he began to run.

Less than fifteen minutes ago he was as good as dead. Now, Big Jim was gone, and he was free.

Free to go home, free to live his life and maybe even have an actual future here in this town.

A future that would start the moment he found Julia.

###

It was a beautiful day.

Sunlight reflected on the water around the boat, a muted imitation of the blinding light that had burst across the dome just minutes before, the egg's answer to her desperate gamble.

A gamble that she had always been doomed to lose.

Sitting with her back against the boat's steering console, Julia stared blankly out over the water, her clenched fingers holding the battered dog tags tightly against her chest. The egg— and its light— was gone, as safe from Big Jim as she could make it.

She had protected it, protected the town, just as the dome-Alice had demanded.

And it had cost her everything.

Closing her eyes, Julia drew in a shuddering breath, feeling the fresh burn of tears behind her eyelids. She had done the right thing; she had done what Barbie would have wanted her to do.

But that didn't mean she hadn't failed him.

Because she had. She'd failed him, just like she had failed Peter— and now she had lost them both, unable to protect the only two people who'd ever truly mattered.

They were gone, and she was still here; broken and alone, left with nothing but the pain that was tearing her apart.

Opening her eyes, she looked again at the water surrounding her, the sunlight dancing across its rippled surface like a silent, shimmering invitation, a promise of escape— and for a single, fleeting moment, she wavered, wondering what it was like to drown.

Almost immediately, she pushed back that thought, her mind forcefully shutting out the water's silent call, the temptation for release.

She couldn't— wouldn't— give up now.

Not yet.

Not when there was still one thing left for her to do.

Slowly uncurling her fingers, she looked down at the dogtags she held, the only piece of Barbie she had left. Carefully, reverently, she lifted the chain with trembling fingers, reconnecting the two loose ends before slowly looping it around her neck, the weight of the tags settling comfortably against her chest.

Breathing deeply, she lifted a hand, gripping the tags tightly and steeling herself before using her uninjured arm to pull herself to her feet. Pain seared through her shoulder at the movement, sudden and sharp, but she barely noticed, the physical hurt lost amid a worse kind of pain.

The kind that she knew would never heal.

Leaning tiredly against the steering wheel, she turned the switch, her body functioning on autopilot as she slowly angled the boat toward the shore. Within a few brief minutes, she was back on solid ground once more, the boat's keys already joining the egg on the bottom of the lake.

Reaching her car, Julia glanced out over the water one last time, then let out a slow breath before forcing herself to turn away, to get in the car and not look back.

Sliding into the driver's seat, she pulled the door shut, automatically glancing over at the seat beside her— and instantly, the space inside the car seemed to press in on her, her breathing suddenly difficult, her chest tight. For a fraction of a second, she'd forgotten. For that tiny fleeting moment, she'd expected him to be there, expected to have his strong and comforting presence once more at her side, as it had so often been over the last two weeks.

Instead, there was only an empty seat, the reminder of his absence just another wound to her already damaged heart.

Blinking back the tears, Julia tore her eyes away from the passenger seat, her movements jerky and automatic as she started the engine, shoving the car into gear and swinging around towards the road. Fixing her gaze on the asphalt before her tires, she sped recklessly towards the town, trying vainly to outrun the memories, to find a few moments of refuge from her thoughts.

But there could be no escape from herself; no relief from the pain that haunted her. Not when Barbie had become a part of her, her love for him— which had arisen swiftly and intensely, as unexpected and illogical as it was powerful and inescapable— leaving an indelible mark upon her heart and mind, a broken truth that burned beneath her skin.

Now, without him, she could feel the fire within her slowly dying, her whole being constantly on the verge of crumbling into ashes.

Just days ago, he had been right there in the seat beside her as the timer had run out, his eyes silently holding hers as those last seconds had ticked down and the world had exploded all around them.

She hadn't even remembered moving as the missile hit, but when she'd opened her eyes just moments later, she'd been pressed against the center console, her face buried in her arms— and Barbie's weight heavy against her back, his upper body shielding her as best he could.

Protecting her, like he had since the moment they'd met.

And in return, she had let him die.

Caught up in the memory, she realized her surroundings almost too late, her body slamming painfully against the seatbelt as she braked hard, the car skidding to a stop in the middle of a large intersection.

Breathing hard, she pushed her hair out of her eyes with shaking fingers, her eyes focused dead ahead.

Barely two blocks ahead of her, just out of her line of sight, was the town hall— and somewhere within it, the lifeless body of the man she loved.

The pain in her chest stabbed deeper, her eyes falling shut, her shoulders slumping. Just a couple of hours ago, she'd passed through this very intersection, her body tucked close against Barbie's in the backseat as Angie had sped towards the concrete factory, the three of them running on relief, hope, and pure adrenaline. They were free and on their way to safety, and as Barbie's lips had found hers— soft and thankful and full of hope and promise— she'd even almost begun to believe that they would be okay.

Now, Barbie was dead, and she would never be okay again.

Gripping the wheel with white-knuckled hands, Julia swung sharply left, the deserted streets passing by quickly as she wound her way home, her route deliberately skirting through several smaller streets, keeping her as far from the town hall as possible. Still, she couldn't escape the images in her mind, haunted by thoughts of Barbie's cold, murdered body lying alone in the morgue somewhere, his blue eyes faded and unseeing.

Gritting her teeth, Julia fought to shut them out for just a little longer; already she could feel the tension in her body building, her heart pounding hard in her chest, its rhythm like a steady, unstoppable countdown, each heavy thud bringing her one step closer.

Closer to the moment when her already brittle control would finally fail, when she would break apart, shattering into a million tiny pieces, too damaged ever to be whole again.

She would be destroyed, but she could live with that; could handle being broken, being screwed up and torn down and ripped apart.

After all, her pain would be short-lived. A day, maybe two— however long it took her to get Barbie's body back, to take him to the McAlisters' and bury him beside Alice, somewhere he wouldn't be alone, somewhere they could watch over him. They all owed him that much.

Once she had given him a proper burial, she would say her final goodbyes, and walk away without looking back.

Then, she would find Big Jim, and put a bullet in his chest.

After that, Linda or whoever else could take her away, could deal with her like they had with Barbie.

By then, she'd have no reason to stay anyway.

Just at that moment, her grim train of thought was interrupted, her foot automatically easing off the gas as her house came into view up ahead.

The last time she'd been home, she'd been getting ready to go with Barbie to Peter's grave, to take the first step towards closure— and towards the future.

Now, it was not only Peter who she would be saying goodbye to, but to Barbie as well, and to the future she'd so nearly believed she could have.

Swallowing back the sudden tightness in her throat, Julia ignored the already-familiar burn of tears behind her eyes, keeping her gaze down as she pulled up before the house. She couldn't make herself look just yet, couldn't quite face the sight of it sitting dark and empty, just another reminder that she was now completely and utterly alone.

Shifting the car into park— her injured arm trembling with even that small effort— she killed the engine, closing her eyes for a moment as she worked to keep herself together for just a little longer.

Then, drawing in an unsteady breath, she forced herself to move, shoving the door open and climbing out, her fingers already automatically seeking the comfort of the dogtags around her neck.

For a moment she simply leaned against the car door, gathering what little strength she had, her body weighted down by a pain that went far beyond the physical. Letting out a shaky sigh, she forced one foot in front of the other, slowly rounding the front of the car to step up onto the curb, her eyes finally lifting as she started for the front door.

She didn't even manage a single step further, her entire body suddenly locked in place, her heartbeat pounding hard and fast in her ears.

Because there, rising to his feet from his seat on the porch steps, his blue eyes locked unwaveringly on hers, was Barbie.

And suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

Completely frozen, she could only stare as he came towards her, crossing the distance with a swift, determined stride. Within moments he was before her, his intense gaze holding hers, the word  _hallucination_ barely entering her mind before he disproved it, his callused hands cradling her face with a gentle urgency, his lips soft but desperate against hers.

Soft and desperate and  _real_.

A split second later she was kissing him back, a tiny, choked sob rising from somewhere deep in her chest, the tears falling unnoticed as she pressed closer, a storm of emotions surging through her body to pass through her lips. Releasing her grip on the dogtags, she clenched her fingers in his shirt, her fingers digging tightly into the soft fabric, feeling the rapid heave of his chest underneath as she pulled him to her.

Tension radiated from his body, his muscles taut under her touch, yet he kept the kiss gentle, his mouth moving over hers with such tenderness and relief that it was almost painful, his warmth flowing through her veins like a healing drug.

When he began to pull away— whether seconds or minutes or hours later she had no idea— she felt the panic spread like lightning along her already overwhelmed nerves, her entire body suddenly stricken. A tiny whimper escaped her throat, a wordless, instinctive plea, and instantly his hands gripped her face just a little tighter, his breath warm as it feathered against her lips. Her eyes were still clenched tightly shut— terrified that he would disappear if she were to open them— but she felt him still, felt the gentle brush of his thumbs over her cheeks, carefully wiping away the moist tear tracks left on her skin. A shiver passed through her as he carefully touched his lips to each of her eyelids, then returned to press another brief kiss to her mouth, a gentle reassurance that he seemed to need as much as she did.

As his lips left hers, she felt him exhale slowly, the tension within him seeming to ease just a little. When his hands shifted from her face, she felt her own breath catch in her throat, the air escaping her lungs in a shaky rush as one hand came to rest against her lower back, the other slipping under her hair to cup the back of her neck, gently drawing her against him. Releasing her grip on his shirt, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, barely noticing the sharp stab of pain through her wounds as she pressed close, burying her face in his neck and breathing him in.

A moment later she felt the tiny, feather-light touch of his lips against her hair, heard the tremor in his voice as he breathed her name.

And with that, she was undone.

Her tears soaked quickly through his shirt as she clung to him, both of their bodies shaking with her silent sobs. Tightening his grip, he simply pressed his face to her hair and held her close, the steady rise and fall of his chest against her cheek giving her the only comfort she truly needed.

Eventually, once the shuddering had slowly subsided and she could finally breathe again, she felt his hand smooth over her hair, his voice soft at her ear.

"Come on," he whispered, then slowly released her, his palms sliding lightly down her arms as he drew back, giving her a moment to unclench her fingers from his shirt before gently taking her hands in his, his grip warm and steady.

Drawing a deep breath, she slowly lifted her head, her heart stumbling in her chest as their eyes met.

She could see the toll that the last several hours had taken upon him— the tiny lines of stress and exhaustion etched into his skin, the unfamiliar shadows beneath his eyes that made his irises seem even bluer— but physically he seemed uninjured, his movements steady and deliberate, his gaze sharp and clear.

And focused closely on her, staring at her with the same desperate intensity that she knew was reflected in her own eyes, that single telling look proving just how close they had come to losing each other for good.

Seemingly understanding the storm of emotions that surged within her, Barbie paused, his eyes softening. One hand turned in hers, linking their fingers tightly, while the other rose slowly to rest against her cheek once more, his touch gentle, his gaze holding hers as she leaned into him. It was only when his eyes lowered a moment later that she realized her own hand had lifted, unconsciously gripping the dogtags that still hung from her neck. She saw him take an unsteady breath, his hand dropping from her cheek to cover hers where it lay cradled against her chest, directly over her heart.

When his eyes finally lifted to hers, she saw everything, a lifetime worth of emotions contained within a single look, every answer to every question that she had ever had about them. For several hard beats of her heart, he simply held her gaze, before slowly dropping his hand and turning as he led her up the porch steps, keeping her close by his side. Once through the front door, they paused for only a moment in the entryway while he locked the door securely behind them— his other hand still wrapped possessively around hers— then led her through to the lounge room, sinking onto the couch and pulling her gently down into his lap.

She went without hesitation, settling against his chest, seeking the comfort of his embrace like a small child after a nightmare— and he responded instantly, his arms wrapping securely around her, cradling her carefully against him, his body warm and solid and real against hers.

Tucking her face into his neck, Julia simply let herself breathe, let her body— and heart— recover, the tension slowly seeping from her aching muscles. For his part, Barbie seemed content to do the same, his cheek resting gently against her hair, his thumb stroking absentmindedly back and forth against her skin as he breathed in time with her.

Wrapped up in his warmth, she counted each breath, every inhale and exhale a much-needed reassurance that he was really okay. Releasing her grip on the back of his neck, she slid her hand down and pressed it to his chest, his heartbeat unsteady but strong beneath her palm, his body trembling along with hers as he held her close.

Eventually, she felt him draw in a deep, slow breath, then let it out, something within him finally seeming to settle. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, his words a low rumble in his chest as he answered a question she hadn't yet asked.

"Big Jim's dead."

Lifting her head sharply from his shoulder, she stared at him in shock, her stunned response barely louder than a whisper.

"What?"

Her eyes fixed on his face, she saw the tiny movement of his throat as he swallowed, something shifting behind his eyes as he glanced away, his jaw suddenly taut. Shock faded quickly into concern, and she pressed her palm more firmly against his chest, the tips of her fingers curling into his shirt, drawing his focus and bringing him back. With another careful breath, he turned back to look at her, the cloud seeming to lift from his gaze as their eyes met and held, one hand lifting to cover hers where it rested over his heart.

"After the stars, when everything went white, there was something— like a lightning bolt, maybe," he began slowly, then took a breath, his gaze falling to their entwined hands, his thumb stroking tentatively across her skin as he went on. "Next thing I know, my noose has been cut clean through, and Big Jim's down and out. Joe, Angie, and Norrie showed up right after that and convinced the others let me go. I'm not sure they all bought it, but Linda gave the word, so I'm—" he faltered, clearing his throat. "I'm free and clear."

For a moment he fell silent, slowly letting out a breath as if the significance behind what he'd just said had only just hit him as well. Julia said nothing, her body frozen in horror as her eyes fixed on the faint pink marks on the skin of his neck, registering their significance for the first time. Hot tears welled, obscuring her vision, blurring the abrasions that she herself had caused. He'd been literally moments from death— from _public execution—_  because he'd once again put protecting her above his own freedom, sacrificing everything to keep her safe.

He'd saved her life, knowing it would be at the expense of his own.

Eyes falling shut, she shuddered hard, sucking in a searing breath as a fresh wave of panic gripped her, an iron fist wrapping around her heart and squeezing tightly. If the dome hadn't intervened, if she'd taken a just few seconds longer getting the egg to the lake... her throat was suddenly far too tight, the trapped air burning in her chest, her stomach roiling. Knowing what they had been about to do to him, seeing the image in her mind, made it so much more real, so much more impossible to bear.

 _God, Barbie._ Her fingers clenched hard in his shirt, and she felt him start slightly, breaking out of his own reverie. Turning back to her, he lifted his hand from hers to cup her cheek, his palm warm and steady against her skin, his thumb stroking gently. Breathing out a small sigh, he let his forehead lower to rest lightly against hers, his expression smoothing as he closed his eyes.

When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, his words certain.

"Julia, whatever you did, it saved my life."

Her breath escaped on a small sob, the tears finally spilling over. Clenching her eyes shut, she struggled for breath, fighting to keep control.

"Hey," Barbie murmured, his voice full of tender concern, his thumb brushing softly against her skin, wiping away the hot, silent tears that rolled steadily down her cheeks. "What is it?"

"I thought I'd gotten you killed," she choked, her voice barely above a whisper, each word like splinters digging deeper into her heart. Keeping her eyes clenched tight against the burn of fresh tears, she voiced the fear that had almost killed her. "I thought I'd lost you too."

She felt the tiny hitch in his breathing, felt him tense against her, his thumb going still on her cheek. For the briefest moment there was silence, then his arms tightened around her, his fingers slipping under her hair to curl around the back of her neck, pressing her closer against him.

"It's okay," he murmured finally, his voice low and deep, rough with emotion. "We're gonna be okay."

He said it like a promise, his tone filled with a steady certainty, a quiet resolve. Her breath caught at his words, then escaped in a slow exhale, a knot finally beginning to loosen in her chest.

Barbie was right. They'd already nearly lost each other— more times than she wanted to think about— yet they still kept finding their way back, overcoming every obstacle they'd come up against. Now, with Big Jim and Max both gone, they could finally begin to move forward, to have a future.

They were going to be okay.

Emotion flooded her, her heart squeezing in her chest as she pressed her forehead closer against his, their noses brushing. "I love you," she whispered, feeling his heart stumble suddenly beneath her palm, then begin pounding hard and fast, racing in time with hers.

His fingers tightened against her neck, his breathing suddenly uneven. "I love you too," he answered hoarsely, his lips finding hers as if words alone weren't enough. Sliding her hand upwards, she curled her fingers around the back of his neck and leaned closer, sinking into him. The kiss was slow, tender, tempered with love and relief, each moment spreading a healing warmth further through her veins.

And gradually, bit by bit, the broken pieces within her finally began to mend.

When their lips eventually parted, she sighed, then pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw before tucking her face into his neck, letting go of her pain with each slow breath. Pressing his face to her hair, Barbie silently did the same.

Finally, with her body relaxed and her mind clear, she broke the silence, her voice low with exhaustion. "God, I just want to go to bed and forget this day ever existed."

She heard his tiny, amused huff, his voice a rumble in his chest. "I can help with that."

Pulling back, she looked up at him in surprise, her mouth curving in her first true smile in days— in fact, since they had last sat together on this couch— and somehow, she suspected that had been precisely his intention.

Glancing down at his lips, she lifted an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed, the heat in his eyes sending an automatic shiver across her skin, her veins flooding with a new kind of warmth. She needed this, needed  _him_. Leaning in, she placed her lips close by his ear, her words emerging as a husky whisper that was half-challenge, half-plea.

"Then prove it."

Clearly, he needed no further invitation; almost instantly, his lips were at the curve of her throat, his hot kisses scorching her sensitive skin, drawing a small, involuntary moan from her as her hand reflexively tightened around the back of his neck, her fingernails pressing into his skin. A moment later, the world shifted abruptly, the couch falling away beneath her as Barbie rose smoothly to his feet, his arms strong and secure around her, lifting her without even the slightest tremble. The action drew a surprised laugh from her, a laugh that became a smiling kiss as his lips once again found hers, as if her happiness was a drug he needed to taste.

His lips scarcely strayed from hers as he slowly crossed the room, his footing steady and unwavering as they ascended the stairs, and she marveled at both his strength and the gentle way he held her, his arms carefully positioned to avoid pressure on her wounded shoulder.

Once in their bedroom, he lowered her gently onto the very edge of the bed, pressing a brief kiss to her forehead as he drew back. Loosening her grip, she let her hand rest on his shoulder as he knelt on the floor at her feet, her thumb lightly stroking the side of his neck, a swell of tenderness and need rising in her chest as she watched him. His eyes were downcast, focused on his task, his fingers deft but gentle as he untied her borrowed Chucks before sliding them carefully from her feet, his fingers warm and familiar against her skin.

Placing the shoes neatly beside the bed, he looked back up at her— the depth of warmth and love in his eyes making her heart stutter, her breath catching slightly in her chest— and slowly she leaned forward, her hand sliding up to cup his jaw as his body moved in tandem with hers, rising higher on his knees to meet her kiss. She felt his large hands slide up her calves and along her thighs, the warmth that trailed his touch steadily intensifying as they came to rest just inches from where she wanted them, his fingers gently kneading the flesh of her upper thighs through her jeans.

But for her it wasn't enough. She wanted the jeans gone, wanted every single barrier between them removed. She wanted— needed— to feel him, all of him, needed to surround herself with him and let his warmth fill the jagged hole in her chest, burning away the darkness that had been dragging her under.

He must have felt the desperation that had crept into her kiss; his fingers tightened around her thighs in a silent gesture of reassurance, his lips moving over hers with a gentleness and care that couldn't quite mask his own need. Dropping her hands to cover his, she squeezed gently before lifting them to her hips, curling his fingers around the thin material of her top.

His lips stilled against hers for a moment before she felt them curve into a smile, his fingers slipping below her hem to trail fire against her skin. Brushing his lips against hers once more, he drew back just slightly and slowly rose to his feet, his eyes meeting and holding hers as he slowly pulled the tank top free, carefully avoiding her injured shoulder.

She never saw the top hit the floor— not when his lips had once again found hers, one knee pressing down onto the bed between her thighs as his body leaned over hers, supporting himself with one arm while the other curled around her, his hand steady at her back, his fingers releasing the clasp on her bra the moment before her back lowered onto the covers.

Within seconds the bra had disappeared, the cool touch of the fabric replaced by the searing heat of his palm, the contact sending bolts of electricity straight to her core. Her tiny gasp was swallowed by his mouth, his lips covering hers in a heated kiss that had her pressing closer, arching up into him. Her hands lifted to bury themselves in his hair, nails pressing into his scalp as his lips shifted to travel across her jaw and down her neck, following the line of the dogtags' chain as he ventured steadily lower, tasting her skin with both passion and reverence. Seeming determined to take his time, he slowly rediscovered every inch of her, tears pricking at the back of her eyes as he detoured to press grateful kisses to the skin surrounding her wounds.

Letting out an unsteady breath, she let her fingers slide from his hair to grip his shoulder, clenching in his shirt and tugging— weakly, given that all her muscles seemed to be fast taking on the consistency of melted butter— until he looked up at her, his lips hovering millimeters above the sensitive skin near her navel, his warm breath sending pulses of desire along her already-overwhelmed nerves. For a moment, their gazes locked— a silent exchange that said far more than words ever could have— and then he was pulling away, his breathing uneven as he straightened, shifting backwards off the bed to stand upright. Fighting the irrational panic that flared in her chest with the loss of his touch, Julia lifted herself on her elbows— ignoring the tiny bolt of pain that speared through her shoulder at the movement— and silently watched as he toed off his boots, his eyes returning to hers as he yanked his shirt over his head.

Her breath caught at the sight of him before her, dressed only in low-slung jeans, his broad chest rising and falling a little unsteadily as he gazed down at her. His eyes never leaving hers, he stepped in closer once more, his movements slow and careful, his hands coming to rest lightly at her waist for moment before trailing slowly across her abdomen, her muscles instinctively clenching beneath his gentle touch.

Feeling the need building inside her, she pressed her knees tighter against the sides of his legs, a desperate, unspoken request that he immediately obliged, deftly undoing the button of her jeans before hooking his fingers in the waistband and slipping both the jeans and her panties down past her ankles, dropping them carelessly to the floor. The emotion and wanting that flashed through his eyes as he looked at her was unmistakable, his own jeans following just moments after hers.

Staring up at him, she felt her throat close over, a riot of emotions swirling in her gut. His gaze never left hers as he leaned over her once more, bracing himself on one knee, his hand once again beside her shoulder as he held himself above her. Ignoring the pain that pierced through her shoulder at the movement, Julia lifted her arms to wrap around the back of his neck, raising herself slightly to meet his kiss. As his lips claimed hers once more, hot and possessive and full of emotion, she felt his palm slide along the underside of her thigh to hook under her knee, and she responded instantly, wrapping her legs around his waist, arching up to meet him.

She felt him groan against her mouth at the increased contact, felt the growing urgency in his movements as his hand swiftly traveled back down her thigh, over her buttocks and along the curve of her back to her uninjured arm, his fingers warm and strong as he pressed her arm even more tightly around the back of his neck. Realising his intentions, Julia clung to him tightly with her good arm, her lips still locked with his as he slipped an arm beneath her back, supporting her weight. Then he was lifting her, their bodies turning together until suddenly she was in his lap, legs still encircling him as they sat on the edge of the bed. With both arms now free, he wrapped them around her, his palms spreading fire over her skin, his touch heated but tender and exactly what she had been yearning for since the moment their lips had met through the bars of his cell too many hours ago.

With the pressure on her shoulder now lifted, the sharp pains that had pulsed in her wounds immediately began to fade, becoming nothing more than barely-noticeable discomfort. Knowing that had been exactly his intention, she felt a surge of emotion rise in her chest, her love for him leaving her breathless. Putting it all into the kiss, she shifted just a fraction— feeling him between them, hot and hard and so close to where she needed him— then tilted her hips, lifting herself just slightly, feeling a tremor run through him as he pressed against her.

His arms were banded tightly around her, the strength with which he supported her at odds with the gentleness of his hands against her skin. She felt the tension in every one of his muscles, his body taut, restrained, waiting for her to make the next move.

Pulling her lips from his, she drew an unsteady breath, then opened her eyes, their gazes locking as she sank against him, bringing them closer, taking him in.

And then suddenly he was filling her, completing her, a low moan escaping her throat as her head dropped forward to rest against his. With a shuddering breath, Barbie tightened an arm around her back, drawing her still closer, while the other hand lifted to bury itself in her hair, tilting her face up to capture her lips with his.

Returning his kiss, she rocked slowly against him, her arms tight around the back if his neck, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp. A whimper built in her throat as he deepened the kiss, tasting and taking, his hand slipping from her hair to run along her shoulder, down her back, over her waist and stomach, mapping every inch of her skin, warmth spreading through her as if his touch was reawakening every tiny piece of her, mending every crack that had formed since the moment she had lost him just hours— and yet a lifetime— ago. There was a desperation and urgency to his touch that she understood, a silent need that told her he'd believed he'd never hold her again.

When they parted for air, she pressed kisses to his cheek and jaw, her mouth travelling down to suck on the corded muscle of his neck, drawing her name from him on a hoarse groan, his hands finding her buttocks and squeezing as he shifted beneath her, the new angle causing her to catch her breath. And then suddenly he was kissing her everywhere he could reach, his lips hot and insistent against her shoulders and throat and jaw before claiming her mouth once more, his lips covering hers as they moved together, every touch infused with such love and relief and need that it left her breathless, her battered heart beating only for him.

Moving with him, she felt the pressure building, growing, their bodies following an instinctive rhythm until she was gasping against his lips, her whole body tensing, desperately pressing closer as she lost herself in him, in  _them_ , everything else simply falling away into nothing.

He was her everything now, and she was his.

When she finally broke, it was with his name on her lips, a breathless plea that emerged almost as a sob, her entire body clinging to him as he drew her down hard against him, his hips jerking beneath her, his forehead falling to her shoulder as he shuddered.

Exhausted and trembling, they clung to one another, his face turning to press into her neck, his ragged breaths hot against her skin. Resting her cheek against his head, Julia stroked through his hair with unsteady fingers, her eyes closing as let herself slowly draw back together, healing from the inside out.

Her heartbeat was only just beginning to slow when he finally lifted his head from her shoulder, his forehead creased in concern as his eyes met hers, his voice a low rasp.

"Did I hurt you?"

For a moment the words didn't even register, his worry completely at odds with the deep sense of peace that had settled within her.

"What? No. No," she assured him gently, dipping her head to press her lips to his, the kiss brief but expressive, showing him everything she felt. Pulling back to look into his eyes, she watched his fear gradually begin to subside, her breath escaping in a long, silent exhale as she touched her lips to his temple, her words a whisper against his skin. "I'm okay, Barbie."

She saw his eyes drop shut, his fingers pressing a fraction tighter against her back as he drew an unsteady breath. When his eyes eventually lifted to hers once more, they seemed clearer, less pained, the drawn lines of his face slowly softening. A moment later his gaze dropped to the bandage on her shoulder, his expression becoming focused, assessing.

"Your dressings need to be changed," he told her, his warm breath feathering over her neck, making her shiver. "Have you had any painkillers?"

Trailing her nails over his scalp, she took a wavering breath. "Angie found me a couple of oxycodone before we left the clinic. Since then, nothing."

His frown returned, making her lean forward once more, kissing away the creases that marred his forehead. When she looked down at him, his eyes were tender, but his voice remained serious, his concern clear.

"Those pills have to have worn off almost completely by now. We need to find you something more," he told her, then paused, looking suddenly contemplative. "Did Peter have a doctor's bag?"

Surprised, Julia nodded, her fingers sliding downwards to curl around the nape of his neck. "I haven't seen it in months, but he always kept it downstairs, beside his desk in the den."

"Good," was Barbie's only reply, then suddenly his hands were moving, sliding down her back to cup under her thighs, lifting her as he stood. A tiny, involuntary whimper left her throat as they came apart, her arms tightening around his neck as he knelt to set her on the bed. Pressing a brief, firm kiss to her lips, he pulled back, gently disentangling himself from her grasp.

"Stay here," he ordered softly, his lips touching against her temple. "I'll only be a minute."

Deprived of him, one hand fell limply to her lap, the other automatically clasping around the dogtags as she willed her suddenly racing heart to calm. Feeling the familiar tightness return to her chest, she watched him rise, then pause momentarily to scoop his briefs from the floor and slip them on before turning back to her. The moment his gaze fell on her, he faltered slightly, his expression instantly shifting as he read the silent panic in her eyes. Stepping closer once more, he cupped her cheek, his voice gentle.

"I'll be right back," he told her, his thumb brushing soothingly over her skin, his eyes serious as they held hers.

He waited for her shaky nod before turning away, the muted sound of his footfalls following him as he disappeared out into the hallway. Sucking in a breath, Julia clenched her fingers even more tightly around the tags, her eyes closing momentarily as she steadied herself. When she finally opened them once more, she had regained some semblance of control, her body forcibly dampening the urge to follow after Barbie, fighting the need to keep him in her sight, to ensure that he was here and this was all still real.

With a heavy sigh, she unclenched her fists, using her good arm to push herself off of the bed, her legs momentarily wobbly beneath her. With one last glance towards the doorway— she was sure she could hear the faint noises of Barbie moving around downstairs— she slipped into the bathroom, taking a minute for herself.

When she finally looked up at the mirror, her eyes were immediately drawn to the two bandages that stood out from her pale skin, each stark white square marred by a dark crimson-brown stain in the center. Lifting her eyes to meet her own gaze, she was surprised by the flush of color in her cheeks, the light that had returned to her eyes— so far from the haunted, broken reflection she had seen out on the lake— and immediately knew that Barbie had not been the only one to come back from the dead today. She had been gone in all but the most technical sense, on the very edge of surrender, and he had brought her back.

They had saved each other in more ways than one, and somehow, she knew they always would.

Feeling a small smile curve her lips, Julia began to turn for the door, instantly freezing in alarm as she caught a glimpse of a dark shape in the corner. Heart racing, she turned sharply to face the object, her breath escaping in a rapid rush as her eyes registered the familiar dark blue-gray material. Barbie's shirt hung from a hook in the corner, still where she had left it to dry after the rain— after it had ended up crumpled on her floor, along with the rest of their clothing. Huffing a tiny chuckle, Julia crossed the room and lifted the now-dry shirt off the hook, then slipped it on, her nose pressing into the material as she inhaled its faint scent. Sighing softly, she fastened a few buttons, then threw a quick checking glance at the mirror as she slipped back into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed to curl up against the headboard.

Just moments later, she heard the creak of Barbie's footsteps on the stairs, and then he was filling the doorway, the doctor's bag in one hand and a glass of water in the other, his pack slung over one bare shoulder. She saw the small flicker behind his eyes as his gaze moved over her, lingering on the too-large shirt— and her bare legs beneath it— before meeting her eyes, a tiny smile curving the corner of his mouth. Feeling the last small thread of tension within her ease with his return, she watched silently as he put the glass down on the nightstand, then placed the doctor's bag gently on the bed beside her before turning to drop his pack to the floor.

A moment later he was opening up the already-unzipped doctor's bag, his fingers quickly finding a small white bottle, tipping two pills onto his palm before grabbing the water and leaning down over her, his eyes meeting and holding hers.

"Here," he told her quietly, holding the pills out for her to take. "This is going to hurt no matter what, but once the oxy eventually kicks in you should be able to get a decent sleep."

Giving him a small smile in thanks, she obediently took the pills from him, swallowing them both quickly before chasing them with the water. He watched her with a mix of approval and tenderness, his fingers reaching out to brush softly against her cheek for a moment before his hand lowered to take the half-empty glass from her, gently setting it back on the nightstand.

A moment later he was moving around the end of the bed to sit on the edge beside her, his hip warm against her thigh as he pulled the doctor's bag toward himself. Leaning into him a little, Julia simply watched him as he sorted through the contents, her eyes traveling over a new inch of his body with every breath she drew, carefully etching this image of him— battle-weary and hurting, shaken and disheveled, but here and alive and completely and permanently hers— indelibly into her mind.

She saw the lines creasing his brow deepen even before he spoke, his eyes sober as he looked up from the bag. "We have to make sure the wounds stay clean. The antibiotics in here won't be enough against a serious infection."

Meeting his gaze, she could almost see the scenario that lurked behind his eyes, haunting images of a fever that burned her from the inside out, her body surrendering to an infection they were powerless to fight. Drawing a breath, she rested a hand on his thigh and squeezed gently, her small nod showing him she understood.

For a moment, he simply held her gaze, then dropped his eyes to her shoulder, his fingers careful as he drew the shirt aside. She saw his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly as he examined her bloody bandages properly, the gentleness of his touch belied by the tension in his body as he lightly drew her forward, focused on his task. Neither of them spoke as he carefully cleaned and redressed her exit wound; instead, she focused on controlling the reflexive wince that threatened to show on her features with each touch, determined not to add to the guilt that already haunted him.

Once the new bandage was in place, he silently directed her back against the pillows with another feather-light touch to her arm, then repeated the process for the entry wound, his every movement rigidly controlled, as if she were made from brittle glass that might shatter at any moment.

When he moved down to attend to the small puncture just below her ribs, his expression darkened even further, weighted by a heavy cloud of guilt and anger that seemed to envelop him, pull him under.

"Don't," she finally whispered, the word somewhere between an order and a plea. When his eyes lifted to hers, his fingers immediately withdrawing from her skin, she tightened her grip on his thigh, feeling a desperate intensity build within her as she struggled to make him understand, to make him  _see_. "Don't, Barbie. Don't disappear down that road again. This isn't your fault."

"I pushed her," he countered hotly, his voice low and roughened with guilt. "If I'd just shut up and let her have her way, she never would have come near you."

Julia leaned in closer, the insistence in her tone matching the intensity of her gaze. "You did what you had to do. You made the choice not to help her hurt anyone."

"No," he answered firmly, his eyes dropping as he shook his head. "No, pulling people's strings is her favorite game. Fighting her would have just heightened the challenge, made her enjoy it even more. This was different. She came after you because I chose  _you_." His eyes lifted to hers once more, his voice becoming softer, lower, his eyes agonized as he made his confession. "I just wanted you."

Her breath was still trapped in her lungs when he eventually looked away, his expression hardening. "I should have known she would never have allowed that," he bit out, his words sounding like razor blades in his throat, a mixture of steel and pain. "I should have  _protected_  you."

"You did," she responded immediately, her hand lowering to cover his where it rested on her abdomen, inches from the freshly-bandaged wound that would serve as a permanent reminder of what he had done for her. Leaning in, she captured his gaze once more, her eyes serious, her voice quiet but emphatic. "You saved me."

For a long moment he simply stared at her, then his shoulders seemed to slump, his hand twisting to wrap his fingers around hers before lifting their joined hands to his lips. Pressing a soft kiss to her palm, he finally seemed to settle, his eyes falling closed as he breathed against her skin. Even when he eventually lowered her hand and rose from the bed, her eyes stayed on him, following him silently across the room as he placed the doctor's bag by the door. Then, he turned and looked down at her, his eyes a little softer, warmth and love slowly erasing the pain and guilt that lingered in their depths.

"What do you need?" he questioned softly, and she didn't hesitate; she simply reached out a hand to him, her eyes telling him everything he needed to know. Flipping off the light, he slid into the bed beside her, settling on his back and wrapping an arm around her, careful to avoid her wounds as he drew her close.

Shifting until she was half draped over his chest, Julia entwined her fingers with his, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, her own heart finally at peace.

They might never escape Chester's Mill, but for now, they were together and safe, with the promise of a future they could finally start building towards.

Now, for the first time since the dome surrounded them, they were finally free.


End file.
